


Pretty Things

by Fierceawakening



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: For Megastar Week 2021, prompt: Jewelry. Starscream tricks Megatron into letting him prance around wearing the McGuffin. Or does he?
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41
Collections: MegaStar Week 2021 Collection





	Pretty Things

“But Megatron!” Starscream pouted. “I want it!”

Megatron’s optics flickered. “I am aware of that.”

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s a power source.”

“It’s a pretty power source.”

“Starscream.” Megatron reached out a hand to clasp Starscream’s shoulder. Not to hurt him, no, but perhaps to… better tether him to reality. “You are a Cybertronian scientist, not an immature human with a shiny toy. You know why we acquired this artifact.”

Starscream flicked a wing. “Why do we ever do anything? To generate energy. To manufacture energon.”

“Indeed.”

“Nice to know you’re still wedded to that idea,” Starscream huffed. “The one idea you’ve had since we crash-landed on this Primus-forsaken piece of dirt.”

“This forsaken piece of dirt?” Starscream always did have a way with words. “The whole point of the ‘one idea’ I’ve apparently had since we crash-landed is—”

“To get _off_ of it. I know.”

“Then why do you criticize me for obtaining this ruby? Installed in the proper machine, it can—”

“Generate enough energon to get us home. I know.” Another wing flick. “Who do you think gave Soundwave the idea?”

Megatron highly doubted that. But Starscream did have a point. The Seeker was no fool. No matter how much he sometimes seemed to enjoy playing at it. “Then what, for spark’s sake, is this nonsense about you wanting it? It has a far more important use than adorning your plating!”

“Oh, of course it does, you rusting fool!” Starscream snapped, waving a lithe blue finger in Megatron’s face. Megatron found himself fighting an urge to snap back at it. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t wear it too.”

“Wear it… too?”

“It’s a gem. Put it in your machine some of the time, and let me wear it the rest of the time.”

Megatron tilted his head. “The rest of the time?”

Starscream’s lip curled in a grin, and his optics brightened.

###

Starscream strutted around the bridge of the Nemesis, the ruby winking from its mount in a ring of metal clasped around his neck. He’d wanted to put it into a crown, of course, but letting him preen all day in a crown was too much, no matter how fetching he might look with a shiny piece of jewelry to show off.

Skywarp whistled, apparently (and noisily) agreeing with Megatron’s assessment of how Starscream looked.

Starscream had polished himself to a high shine, his wings gleaming almost as brightly as the gem he meant to show off. Even the red paint of his torso and pelvis looked new and rich. Had he just polished himself, or had he somehow found the time to have himself repainted?

Well, if he had, he’d finished his duties for the day before doing it, which meant Megatron couldn’t complain. Perhaps he’d done it so Megatron wouldn’t complain. Megatron shook his head, thinking of it. If Starscream put that cleverness into doing something productive…

Still, he could have his pleasure. Megatron had a trick or two in his own subspace.

Thundercracker wasn’t saying anything. From the look of it, he was _resolutely_ not saying anything. Which Megatron honestly couldn’t blame him for. But his engines rumbled louder than most Seekers’, and Starscream batted his optics at him, clearly delighted by the attention.

Then Starscream shimmied over to him.

Everyone knew why, of course. But everyone, as usual, pretended they didn’t, which meant a very brazen Starscream standing entirely too close to Megatron and everyone pretending they weren’t looking.

“Don’t forget you’re only wearing that with my permission,” Megatron rumbled. _Don’t forget they know you’re mine,_ he might have added, but only if they’d been alone.

The others on the bridge stared at Megatron, their optics bright with shock. Megatron could almost hear Soundwave’s wordless question. _Megatron: permitted Starscream to wear the energy source?_ But of course, it had to be true. If Megatron hadn’t allowed it, the gem would still lie cradled in the generator it had been sitting in all day, pumping out energy to be packed into cubes.

Starscream didn’t reply, either to Megatron or to the sudden roil of wordless curiosity. He slinked away from Megatron, dark-painted nose in the air, fans whirring in excitement at the attention.

Megatron let him. He could afford to be magnanimous. They had the energy source they needed, after all.

###

Later that evening, Megatron made his move.

They’d all dispersed, wandering back to their quarters for the evening. Megatron hung back, watching Starscream strut.

“You do look nice,” Megatron purred at him, taking a step back toward the door.

Starscream edged closer. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. Old fool. You call me frivolous, but you stare at me just like everyone else does.”

“Very well,” Megatron said indulgently, reaching out to touch Starscream’s shoulder. “Have it you own way, then.”

Starscream’s optics narrowed, as Megatron knew they would. “You’re being awfully accommodating today, mighty Megatron.”

“My apologies.”

Starscream tilted his head. Megatron took a few steps back. Through the doorway, though Starscream was too busy staring at him to catch that little detail.

“What are you--?”

“You’d adorned yourself so brightly, I didn’t think you wanted me to play hard to get. I had the impression you wanted everyone fawning all over you.”

A burst of static came from Starscream’s vocalizer. “Well, I—I mean, of course I—you—!”

Megatron chuckled. Starscream muttered something like “Oh, you bucket of rusting scrap!”

Then, of course, he moved closer. Or tried to.

A burst of electricity from the necklace— _or collar,_ Megatron thought with a sly grin—clasped around Starscream’s neck, an audio-piercing screech of surprise from the Seeker—but nothing more. Megatron took another step backwards.

“What is—how are— _what did you do?_ ” Starscream snarled, his optics narrowing, a ruby glitter of rage.

“You said it yourself, Starscream. That artifact is an important power source. It should be spending most of its time generating energy. Including the time you spend recharging, unless you had some plan to show it off then too.”

“So you’re going to make me stand here?”

“So I’ve made it remain in the vicinity of the generator room. The mount will paralyze any mechanical device attempting to take it out of the generator room, the hallway leading from it into this room, or this room.”

“You…!”

“I said you could _wear_ the pretty thing, Starscream. Both because you would look good in it, as you said, and because I would never hear the end of it otherwise.”

“You gave it to me.”

“I said you could _show it off_. I very clearly refrained from saying you could _have_ it.”

“You tricked me!”

“If only partially indulging one of your whims counts as tricking you, I suppose I did.”

Starscream stepped back, tipping a little from the sudden change in equilibrium but catching himself with his usual grace.

Megatron raised an optic ridge. “You’d rather preen in there than come to berth?”

“Considering that _you tricked me,_ maybe so!”

Megatron shrugged. “All right then.”

Starscream flicked his wings. Megatron turned away, but then heard “Fine. I’ll put it away.”

Megatron turned back to him with a rumbling purr. “Very well then. I’ll wait for you here.”

He watched Starscream go, shaking his head. It was a bit of a shame Starscream had to put it away. He really did look fetching in that necklace.


End file.
